Bonds Never Broken
by Sibilant Macabre
Summary: A tale of Dalmasca's great Captain, as told by one who knew him best. BaschxOC. "I did not want him to go. But my husband, while most commonly known for his unswerving loyalty to king and country, was also known for his resounding stubbornness..."
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: First time attempting to write FFXII fan-fiction. I love Basch, to be warned. A bit of spoilers, and the story completely deviates from the game, so if you want strictly canon stuff, this little story isn't going to satisfy you. However, if you adore Basch and just want to read anything starring him, by all means continue. Thanks!

SM

**Chapter One**

**The Fall of Nabradia**

I did not want him to go. I'd made that quite plain numerous times. But my husband, while most commonly known for his unswerving loyalty to king and country, was also known, albeit in a more private circle, for his resounding stubbornness. Thus it was I finally kept my silence and merely accepted his decision.

"Alandra," he gently chided as I stood holding his heavy ceremonial blade, just running my thumb over the intricate carvings that graced the hilt. "There's no need for such melancholy."

I turned, giving him a soft smile accompanied by a chuckle. I placed the sheathed blade and belt on our bed and turned to help him with the front lacings of his Dalmascan armor. "I know, Basch," I replied. "I just wish you didn't have to leave so soon."

Large hands closed over mine, stilling their nervous movements. He lifted our hands and softly kissed my knuckles. "Do not worry for me, my love," he whispered, pulling me close. "I will be home soon enough."

As he drew my head to his chest, I willingly leaned into his warm embrace and wished I shared his faith. The court of King Raminas had been whispering of nothing but the battle to the north; of how Nabradia was under siege and Dalmasca was next in Archadia's path. The king, fearing the worst for his people and urged by his new son-in-law, Lord Rasler, had dispatched his knights to aid the falling country. Which meant that Basch fon Rosenburg, Captain of the Dalmascan Knights and my husband, was to lead the Dalmascan Legions to Nalbina Fortress in aid to Rasler's father and people.

And tonight was their scheduled departure. I'd been dreading it for nearly three days, ever since the king's proclamation. The news from the northeast was anything but inspiring and the dread that had settled in my stomach showed no signs of abating. But I understood Basch's decision. He was oath-sworn to obey his king and he would, even unto death.

I sighed, secure in his strong arms. A low chuckle reverberated against my temple. "Missing me already, Alandra?" he rumbled, gently stroking the nape of my neck.

I tilted my head to look up at him, gazing deep into those steel-blue eyes and couldn't help a coy smile. "Since yesterday, Captain," I replied, softly kissing his rough cheek. My gentle teasing made him laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners (which secretly made my knees weak). I giggled in return, ending with a gasp as he delivered a firm smack to my bottom.

"Best you behave while I'm away, wench," he mock-growled and snatched a quick hard kiss that left me quite breathless. I couldn't help my coquettish pout. "Oh, I shall, my lord," I simpered prettily. But rather than engage in the usual bout of play such behavior instigated, Basch only chuckled and stepped away, resuming his task of preparing for the coming campaign. Thwarted, I pouted truly for a bit but, getting no results, abandoned the pretense and moved into the main room of our palace quarters, rubbing my arms as I shivered involuntarily.

A few minutes later, Basch emerged from the bedroom, outfitted in full armor and belted blade, with duffel in hand. My face must have betrayed me, for he glanced my way and shook his head. "Alandra," he sighed, crossing the room to me, "you cannot continue this."

The dam of my heart broke. "Oh, Basch!" I suddenly wailed, throwing my arms around him and clinging. "Do not pursue this!" I fisted my hands in thick golden hair, desperate to keep my beloved close and safe. "Raminas is a fool for his desperation! Nabradia is all but lost! You know it! If you go, I'm afraid you'll never return!" I was sobbing now, my tears drenching the front of his tunic. I shook as he held me close, murmuring soothing words into my hair, nuzzling at my temple.

"Shh, love," he whispered, working thick fingers into the upswept auburn curls. "I understand your fears. I too have my doubts." I felt him tenderly kiss my forehead. "But I am well versed in battle. My sword shall not fail me. Not this time." He stroked and rocked me, trying to quell my tears. "We must do what we can, for our own city as well as our allies. My word I will return to you." He tilted my chin, making me look at him. I sniffled and blinked back tears, seeing the tenderness etched into his rugged face.

"Only for you," he swore and claimed my lips in a crushing kiss. I clasped him close, desperate to keep him forever in my arms. As always, my body responded ardently to my husband's touch and he pressed me hard against him. I moaned into his mouth, seeking to bury myself in him. But the tolling of the tower bells resounded through the palace grounds, cutting short our fiery embrace. I whimpered as we released but Basch gave me a smile and took my hand as we exited our quarters, heading for the courtyard where the armies were gathering.

Two or so hours later, I stood with the other court nobles as the legions marched into the waiting airships. A golden-crowned figure, one of the last to board, paused at the entrance and turned. I knew it was Basch. He fisted one hand over his heart, pressed it to his lips and lifted it to me. I smiled through my tears and returned his gesture. I savored the picture of him standing at the precipice, air from the engines ruffling his tousled hair and his slanted grin. Then he stepped into the darkness and vanished.

Though I had his assurances and love, I somehow knew deep in my heart that things would never again be the same. King Raminas had sent his knights on a fool's mission. Many loyal soldiers would lose their lives. Kingdoms would rise and empires would fall. And my husband, Captain Basch fon Rosenburg, would not return the same man, if he even chanced to return at all.

_**Two years later…**_

"I have told you countless times, Captain Azelas," I said coldly, "the answer still remains the same."

Vossler swore, plowed a hand through his hair and began to pace back and forth. "Why do you _insist_ on this stubbornness, Alandra?" he demanded, whirling to a halt. "It is beyond foolishness. Dalmasca _needs_ your help!"

Disgusted, both with him and with the entire situation, I turned my back and began straightening things on the makeshift shelf of my current dwelling, a rundown shack in upper Low Town. A far cry from my former residence, but I was still alive, therefore thankful. The occupation of Dalmasca hadn't gone entirely as planned. After the debacle at Nalbina, the palace had emptied, the more intelligent nobles disappearing deep into Low Town. The others, those who had openly opposed Imperial occupation, had been swiftly silenced.

I myself had been relocated a bit before, after learning of my husband's perfidy. Rumors had flown far and wide that Captain Basch fon Rosenburg had murdered King Raminas and had been executed for treason. I can't actually recall what happened the day I heard the news. But Lord Rasler was now dead, his wife Princess Ashe also dead, by her own hand. And Archadia now ruled Dalmasca.

Captain Vossler York Azelas himself had taken me away from the palace the night after the earth-shattering news reached Dalmasca and left me in the care of a man known as Dalan. The shrewd businessman had been paid well to look after me and I soon found myself living in an out-of-the-way nook, down one of Low Town's tunnels. Dalan and I had a good arrangement. Thanks to my mother's much loathed embroidery lessons, I was fairly adept with needle and thread. Dalan sold the garments for a good price, giving me a percentage on which to live. Thus I wasn't totally without means of support. Also, I was totally secluded. Few in Rabanastre would care to know that the widow of a traitor still lived within their midst.

Well, perhaps not totally secluded. As was proven by the captain that still paced in my small living area. Every so often, Vossler appeared and pleaded with me to join him and the Resistance. And I always refused. Sick of war, tired of the fighting going on both above ground and below, I wanted no part of any of it. My husband was gone, branded a traitor by those who had formerly honored and respected his name, my country was a shell of its former beauty and a dictator in the making now occupied her throne. Vossler was clinging to a dream. And I said as much. Sharply.

He fell still, staring at me shocked. "You cannot mean that, Alandra," he whispered, no doubt stunned by the vehemence in my voice.

"Well, I do," I snapped, turning abruptly and glaring at him.

His mouth opened and his uttered words nearly sent me into a rage. "Basch would not have given up hope…"

"_Basch is dead!_" I shouted, slamming my hands down on the ragged table. "He is _dead_, Vossler! There is no hope left! Rabanastre is gone, a memory of its former splendor!" I felt tears spill over my lashes as my mind called up my last memory of my husband, standing atop the boarding ramp of his airship, windblown and alive. So willing to die for his loyalty. Well, he had. And as a vile traitor.

Vossler frowned, scowling. "He would despair, to see you now," he said to me, shaking his head.

_That_ almost had me throwing something at him. I know my eyes were on fire as I hissed, "_Do not speak of him again, Captain._" Vossler's gaze instantly turned soft, seeing my ravaged face. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched, but I backed away, negating. "No, Vossler. Please," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "just go. Please."

Vossler paused with a sigh, shaking his dark head. "Alandra, I…" but he fell silent and shook his head once more. I turned away, not wanting to see the hopelessness crest his features. He held on so hard, believed so much; it was his lifeline, what kept him going. He _couldn't_ not believe. It would crush his very heart.

"Farewell, Lady Alandra," I heard him whisper, then the door closed behind him and I heard his footsteps disappear down the tunnels. With a ragged breath, I sank into one of the rough spindly chairs. I tried to not, but I folded my head on my arms and wept.

For two years, memories had been my only comfort. Memories of happier times, of life, love and laughter. While not always pleasant, there had always been hope. Hope for a bright future. Now, all was darkness and despair. My storm of weeping continued until I had no more tears left to shed. Although I had a bit more work to do still that evening, I disdained the task and wrapped in a blanket, deciding instead to sit before the small fireplace. I stared into the cheery flames, wishing I could share their mood. But as I gazed within, memories came flooding back, losing me in their intensity.

I mused over the past, thinking back over my life. My mother and father had been members of King Raminas' court, my father a minister to Rozarria. My mother had been the traditional lady of court, content to spend her days basking in the noble way of life. I was their only child and a bit spoiled, I shamelessly admit. My parents loved me and lavished me with affection and attention. We traveled often, accompanying my father on his trips to and from Rozarria. Alliances were good then, life was exciting and adventurous.

Even as a young girl, I had always been awed by the Knights of Dalmasca. When I could manage to slip away from my mother's courtly lessons, my friends and I would race down to the training grounds to watch them. It was a fond pastime. Even well into our teens, we always managed to find time to watch the Knights and even, I will admit, try to garner a few favors from many a handsome soldier. Oh, the machinations of young women, how bittersweet were those days!

But I can clearly recall the time when a particular youthful Knight began to draw a lot of attention from the King's court. A young man not born Dalmascan, they were whispering. A soldier practically unknown the year before was now making his way to the top of his legion, drawing many an eye and earning high praise on the battle field. I can well remember the Day of Knighting, when proven soldiers came before the king to earn their rightful titles. It was a solemn event, followed by much celebrating. But then twenty-six year old Basch fon Rosenburg, a newcomer to Rabanastre from the country of Landis, earned his title and his rightful place as a Knight of Dalmasca. Beside him, Vossler York Azelas, in a cemented friendship that would be shattered just a decade later.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

It didn't take very long for these two knights to earn the respect and honor of Rabanastre. Both won their Captain's spurs just a year later; Vossler serving in the Royal Guard and Basch commanding in the legions. But times were peaceful, therefore the captains were familiar figures in the city. And ever present within the palace and grounds. I began to make a point to be present whenever Captain fon Rosenburg was in residence; I readily admit to being fascinated by this stern hard soldier. And even though he was seven years my senior, I was still determined to make myself known. What I wasn't aware of, however, was that I wasn't the only one with such determination.

I suppose it was my own foolishness that caused the incident, perhaps a healthy dose of teenaged stupidity. My mother and I were accompanying my father to Rozarria in the spring, bearing a few legal documents between the reigning monarchs. Much to _my_ surprise, one Captain fon Rosenburg was in charge of our little entourage. My father was nothing less than delighted; usually our journeys were perfectly safe, hardly warranting the security of such a renowned soldier. But the pace was easy and slow; everyone was at ease, including the protective soldiers.

One evening, during a pause to rest and refresh, I found myself having wandered a bit too far from the others. I wasn't worried, however. I'd been out in the westersands before, albeit in company of a party of armed men, but I was young and impulsive, and truth to tell, a bit excited about a bit of adventure. Until I heard the growls and snarls around me. I'd apparently disturbed a pack of desert wolves and was now being stalked. And the caravan was nowhere in sight. I snatched a dry fallen branch, determined to at least have some form of weapon.

I began to backtrack the way I'd come, but the wolves were closing in. I could see them by now; brutish monsters, all red-eyed and drooling. It would be futile to flee; the sand was thick and doubtless they'd overcome me in but a moment. Determined not to go down without _some_ sort of a fight, I brandished my stick and took a deep breath to yell, but the bellow from _behind_ me had me wooshing a scream and all but jumping from my skin. A bit afraid to turn around and see this _new_ threat, I yelped as I felt something zip just to the right of my arm and embed firmly in one of the wolves' eyes, felling the creature with a howl. A heartbeat later, another arrow streaked to my left and sank into another wolf's throat, killing it instantly.

Now frozen with terror, I heard a strong male voice command, "Alandra! Down, _now_!" I instantly dropped to the ground just as the largest wolf sprang right where I'd been standing but was met with a gleaming silver blade as black armor flooded my vision. The wolf howled once then fell silent as it crashed to the sand. I heard the scrape of steel on steel and chanced glancing up only to see two black-mailed arms reaching for me. Uncaring of the dirt and sand that covered my new expensive traveling dress, I scrambled up from the ground, only to be snared in a hard embrace. I latched onto my savior, the fear shaking me now that the danger had passed.

I dimly heard a distinct masculine voice rumble, "Are you all right?" My throat still clogged with shock, I just nodded mutely, cheek pressed against a cool shoulder plate. Large hands stroked my back, then gently took my arms and set me away a pace. I blinked and stared up into the ruggedly handsome face of Captain Basch fon Rosenburg. Mortification doesn't even describe the heat that flamed across my cheeks. Embarrassment took a completely new level with what I was experiencing. But, much to my surprise, the captain didn't scold me for my folly, merely offered me his arm to escort me back to the encampment.

We walked in silence, the only sound the desert wind wafting across the sands and scattered rocks. As he paused to turn and lift me down from a particularly high embankment, I finally mustered the courage to say, "I owe you my life, Captain Rosenburg. And my gracious thanks." Basch paused, his hands resting on my waist, staring up at me. I wanted to fidget, so intense was that steely blue gaze.

"You owe me nothing, Lady Del'Kerr," he replied roughly, grunting slightly as he lifted me and set me on the sand beside him. I was flummoxed beyond measure as a gloved thumb gently stroked my cheek. "I am just thankful to find you safe." At that precise moment, had this man asked anything of me, I would have given it without hesitation. But duty apparently returned and he once again offered his arm and led me onward.

I was uncharacteristically quiet the following days, lost in contemplation until we arrived in Rozarria. We were greeted with the usual good-hearted pomp and ceremony, but I wasn't interested in the usual activities of frivolous young noblewomen. I had been thinking long and hard about the previous incident and had finally made up my mind. One afternoon while my parents were involved in matters of state, I sent for Captain fon Rosenburg.

I'd asked him to meet me in Rozarria's expansive rose garden and true to form, he didn't disappoint. I hastily rose from the bench, unconsciously smoothing the velvet of my dress as he approached, resplendent in his Dalmascan armor. He bowed as he greeted me, forcing me to curtsy in response. "Captain," I nervously began, braiding my fingers together, "while I appreciate your timely intervention during our journey, I cannot in good faith offer you nothing for your kindness. Thus," I held out my hand, revealing the gleaming silver chain that rested in my palm, "I wish for you to have this. It was my grandmother's necklace," I explained a bit shyly, feeling so utterly ridiculous at offering this man such a thing, but went on nonetheless. "The token is a pure sapphire, meant to bring good fortune."

Basch gazed at the silver in my palm and gently took it, holding it by the chain as to let the jewel sparkle in the soft sunlight. "My lady, I cannot accept this," he began, lowering his hand. "'twas naught but my duty…" My disappointment must have shown on my face, for he broke off and then asked, "Is it your wish I take this precious gift?" I nodded and gently bit my lip. He looked back at the trinket and then said, "Then I shall, if you so wish it." Basch then fastened the clasp behind his neck and I felt more elated than I can describe to see the chain lying against his skin.

But I blinked as he said, "However, I still cannot take it in payment, but merely as a gift from one to another." I began to protest, but he swiftly silenced me with, "I wish something else, Lady Del'Kerr." My eyes widened and I couldn't help but stammer, "A-and what might that be, C-Captain?"

Basch's answering grin completely unnerved me. Taking two steps closer, he looked down at me and whispered, "From you I desire a kiss."

A flower petal could have easily knocked me over. However, I had little time to either deny or acquiesce, for Basch literally took matters into his own hands, gently snaring me about the waist and swiftly pinning me between the garden's concrete wall and his body. My mouth opened, no doubt to squawk indignant, but that seemed to be just what he was waiting for, because before I could take a breath, his head lowered and his lips captured mine.

I distinctly remember just melting against him. I was only seventeen years old and _woefully_ inexperienced when it came to such matters. But the man holding me was quite skillful; he took full advantage of my parted lips and carefully flicked his tongue just inside my mouth, making me moan and lurch against him. My lips tingled where his pressed against them; his mouth was soft and warm, gentle but insistent. I heard his soft sigh and it made me squirm.

Basch lifted his head and gazed down at me. My eyes were still half-closed and blurry. I blinked and licked my lips, tingling at the taste of _him_ on my tongue. Dimly, I whispered his name. "…Basch?" Steel-blue smiled down at me and I tilted my head, anticipating his next kiss. I wasn't disappointed. I whimpered delight as he kissed me again, this time stroking my upper lip with his tongue and delving deep into my mouth.

My hands slipped from his forearms to latch around his neck, clutching him tightly. I felt him pull me tighter, his arms settling around my hips and my head spun as his tongue stroked mine, eliciting my soft gasp. My fingers smoothed through his thick hair and he groaned into my mouth, making me shiver. Emboldened, I touched my tongue to his and was rewarded by the guttural noise from deep within his chest. Heat began to course through me as our wet muscles writhed together behind my lips and I began to feel so very dizzy, the noises escaping my throat high and wanting.

Finally, the need for air separated us but Basch seemed as loathe to release me as I was him. He buried his nose in my hair, lips grazing my ear as my own hands sank deep into golden strands, sighing in bliss. "Alandra," I heard him growl and it sent a twang through my body at the ragged tone. He finally lifted his head and looked down at me. My confusion and disbelief must have been evident because he gave a half-smile and shook his head slightly. "You cannot know how I have longed for this," I heard him say.

"What?" My brow furrowed. What did he mean?

Basch chuckled, slowly releasing me. Dimly, I felt my feet return to earth and realized I had been balancing precariously on my tiptoes. "I have thought you lovely since the first time I saw you, there at the Knights' drilling field. And many times thereafter, always unnoticed."

I felt heat flood my cheeks, recalling those flirtatious days. Basch noted it and chuckled, but I merely ducked my head in shyness, a bit flustered by my uncharacteristic brazenness. That this man, this _Knight_, thought so of me was more than flattering, it was simply astounding. I bit my lip, suddenly determined to reciprocate his words, but a noise and voices interrupted my tongue.

With enviable composure, Basch stepped away from me, gave a small half-bow, and extended his arm gallantly, saying, "If it pleases you, Lady Del'Kerr, I will escort you back to your chambers."

Flustered and flummoxed, I scowled a bit but took his arm, allowing him to usher me back upstairs. When we reached the suite's door, I turned to finish what I'd started to say, but he spoke first. "If I have offended you, my lady," he said quietly, "I do apologize. I had not meant to be so…forthcoming."

Forthcoming? Was that all he could say about the way he kissed me among the roses? The way his lips felt devouring mine? How deprived I'd felt when he'd stepped away? _Forthcoming? _

"Basch, I—" Oh, _damn_ the palace servants, for the door opened at just that moment and my mother's lady-in-waiting stood there, all smiles and politeness. Basch just nodded to her, gave my hand a discreet squeeze and turned, striding down the gilded hall and disappeared around the corner. I just stalked inside and retreated to my chambers, furious without knowing why. Needless to say, sleep eluded me that night.

I didn't have the opportunity to speak to Basch again for a few months after we returned to Rabanastre. And then was the time of Princess Ashe's fifth birthday celebration. The entire city was in a celebratory mood. The palace was alive with couriers, caterers, musicians and entertainers. The legions were strolling the city streets, keeping relative peace amongst the citizens.

My friends, whom had been completely thrilled with the incident in the Westersands, gushed constantly about my encounter with the great Captain fon Rosenburg. "Do you really suppose he fancies you so?" Dulsa asked, starry-eyed.

I merely shrugged, keeping the secret to myself. "I don't know," I replied glibly. "Perhaps." She caught my smile and chuckled.

"Come on, you two!" Erina urged, hurrying ahead. "We'll get trapped here in the palace if you keep dawdling!" The trip into Rabanastre had been my idea. Childish, I knew, but I wanted to see if what Basch had said possessed any merit. If he _had_ been watching me, then he'd know that the streets of Rabanastre were no place for a young woman and would rush to my rescue accordingly. As I said, childish, but that was the way my mind worked back then.

Dulsa and Erina were enraptured with the intrigue of it all. Giggling conspiratorially, we three slipped from the palace grounds into Rabanastre proper, following the bustle and hustle of the cobbled streets. I wasn't too surprised as we garnered little attention; the city fairly teemed with far more interesting individuals. Races of all shapes, sizes and colors thronged in the streets, laughing out loud, hawking at each other, and conducting business of all sorts. What was the danger here?

We passed several shops, all hosting wares of many different types, but we didn't venture inside, merely moved further along the streets. Descending a steep stairway, we found ourselves in the middle of the Bazaar, nearly goggling at the myriad of different things displayed. A veritable feast of life forms thickened the square . We strolled from vendor to vendor, a bit awed by our surroundings.

A passing chance had me glancing to my left and I suddenly froze as from the corner of my eye I spied a surprisingly familiar figure. A tall, broad-shouldered, tawny haired man was leaning against a nearby column, apparently deep in conversation with a blue-skinned distinctly reptilian being, a bangaa. Although they seemed to be chatting amiably, the man glanced my way and I inhaled a breath to indeed see Basch fon Rosenburg staring at me. Squealching a gasp, I hurriedly turned away and hastened to rejoin Erina and Dulsa.

"What's wrong, Alandra?" Erina asked, noting my flushed face with a bit of concern. I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. "You look as if you've seen a wraith," Dulsa seconded, earning a slight glower. Before I could respond, a firm male voice, one more suited to command than inquiry asked, "Excuse me, ladies, but might I know your business here?"

I didn't know whether to be excited or guilty. Settling somewhere between the two, I assumed my most prim expression and turned around to look full into the Captain's face, a bit nonplussed to see the sternness etched across his rugged features. I heard the other two gasp softly as they realized our quarry had indeed surfaced and Erina actually giggled, causing one of Basch's eyebrows to arch just a fraction. But before either of them could spout off something nonsensical, I summoned enough of my dignity to answer, "Browsing the market, of course, Captain."

My nervousness didn't abate as that eyebrow lifted a bit higher. If anything, my stomach fluttered a bit more. "Indeed?" was the low reply. "Somehow, I can't imagine your parents amiable to such a nuance, especially alone and unescorted."

_Oh, damn him._ I glowered in annoyance; this miscreant was actually _enjoying_ this! But before I knew what was happening, the three of us were somehow being herded away from the bazaar and escorted to a few on-duty soldiers, standing to crisp attention at the approach of their captain. "Sergeants," Basch quietly instructed, "escort these two ladies to the palace and be sure of their safety." Both guardsmen's heels clicked together and their hands twitched, a bit unsure whether or not to salute their captain, seeing as he wasn't regaled in knightly attire. But they nodded diligently. "Yes, sir," both said in unison and I was left gaping a bit as Dulsa and Erina were hurriedly shuffled away.

Annoyed, I rounded on the slightly smirking captain, hands on my hips. "That was hardly called for, you know," I told him tartly.

Basch merely lifted that damned eyebrow again. "I think it was perfectly reasonable," he replied blandly. "None of you have any business being out here alone and unprotected." His expression became stern again. "You know that, Lady Del'Kerr."

I brushed that aside and demanded, "Perhaps, but how did you know where we were?" I wanted to know if what he'd said a few months ago in Rozarria was still true.

"There is little in Rabanastre I do not know, Alandra," he answered, taking my arm and ushering me along the streets, heading for the stairwell. I huffed and stopped, pulling my arm away. "That does not answer my question, Basch," I told him coolly.

Now he looked at me, every inch the stern hard captain. I wanted to fidget from beneath that icy gaze. "Who do you suppose assigns men to protect your family, Alandra Ellevassa Del'Kerr?" I blinked. "And all of them report back to _me_. Believe me," he rumbled, stepping closer and staring down at me intently, "there's very little about you I _don't_ know."

I was taken a bit aback by this revelation. Desperate to appear nonchalant, I tossed lightly, "And your _duty_, I suppose, is your only reason for such dedicated service?" I was surprised to see Basch's eyes narrow at this and I stifled a squeak as he snatched my arm and all but drug me to a shadowed alcove beneath the bridge. His huge hands gripped my forearms as he glowered down at me, my eyes crossing as our noses met.

"Do not mock me, Alandra," he growled. I swallowed a gulp. "Your safety and well-being is ever paramount to me. If needed, I would willingly shirk all other oaths if only to keep you safe. Only the loyalty of my king demands higher obedience."

I blinked, truly shocked. I opened my mouth, but a moment passed before I managed to breathe, "Why?"

Basch hesitated, then released me and stepped back a pace, plowing a hand through his ever-tousled hair. "Do not ask me, Lady Del'Kerr."

I wasn't about to let him get away with _that_. "No, Basch," I negated, daringly placing a hand on his arm. "Tell me why."

Basch looked down at my fingers resting against his bare arm and then lifted his eyes to mine, the steel-blue gaze unreadable. I fully expected him to pull away and take me back to the palace, his duty done, but my eyes widened as his free hand lifted to stroke my cheek, his thumb grazing over my lips. "Can you not guess?" he whispered.

I could _guess_, but I wanted to _know_. Sighing at the remembered feel of his hands, I felt my lashes flutter and I licked my lips. Oh, but this man…! I was dangerously falling for him and could no more stop myself than I could grow wings and fly. Disbelieving my own ears, I dimly heard myself plead, "Basch…kiss me. Please."

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

For those reading, my most sincere apologies. Life just gets away with things sometimes. Sorry for not updating sooner; I just realized I had not yet posted all of the thus-far written story. I'm also considering picking it up again and adding more, as soon as the muses decide to be nice and cooperate.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews, faves and support. They always mean a lot, to know a work is truly appreciated. Thanks again and enjoy the chapter. SM

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Chapter Three

Our tryst in the alcove was woefully short, thanks to the tower bells signaling the beginning of the Princess' celebration. Truly, it was nothing further than a hungry meeting of mouths, breathless sighs and eager searching hands, but I recall being so frustrated by its abrupt closure. Basch merely chuckled to my irritated growl and disengaged my arms from about his neck.

I flushed as he kissed my knuckles and tucked my hand beneath his arm, promising, "Soon, my lady. Soon, we will have a bit more time to speak of this."

As anxious as he, although his composure was nothing less than divine, I remember being devastated that the very next morning, the Dalmascan Knights were dispatched to fortify the kingdom of Nabradia, which was being increasingly threatened by the empire of Archadia.

For five long years, the knights traveled between the two kingdoms. But I never once saw Basch return. What little information I was able to gather stated that the captain was firmly entrenched in his duty to his men, earning more and more glory to heap upon his name. His skill and battle prowess was nothing short of legendary, the people said, and he quickly became regarded as Rabanastre's hero.

During this time, my mother and father became increasingly preoccupied with the task of finding a husband for me. It was far beyond time, they said, for me to marry and start my own family. I categorically refused their suggestions and suitors, unable to tell them that my heart, however quickly it had happened, belonged to a Dalmascan Captain in the kingdom of Nabradia. I myself didn't know _why_ it was so; I knew practically nothing of Basch the man, but _everyone_ knew Basch the hero. However, his honorable ways were as safe and comforting as his kisses were fiery and longing.

Sometime in the spring of the second year, I was a bit surprised to receive a letter. Retiring to my room and quizzically pondering who could have sent me such a communiqué, imagine my breathlessness to see the bold scrawl scratched across the parchment.

_My Lady Alandra, _it began. _Please do not think me impertinent for this and my former boldness, but I fear melancholy has gotten the better of me and I am moved to pen these words to you. I deeply regret my actions during our encounters and wish I could offer profuse apologies in person, rather than humbly ask your forgiveness in writing. I truly mourn having been so cowardly and not pursuing your affections publicly, as you deserve, but instead chose to merely watch from afar, hoping for a miraculous smile given my way. _

I lowered the parchment, breathing a bit unsteadily. Why was Basch apologizing to _me_? I'd had no idea of any of this, but apparently he felt the need to expiate for some ghastly mistake. I read on.

_Lady, I am not a nobleman. That simple statement, I fear, is what kept me from attempting to court you properly, that you would be disenchanted by a man of mere humble birth. I fear my ignorance might have cost me much, for knowing you as I now do, I see that you are not as shallow as to judge a man merely by his origins. Your fervent kiss taught me such. If I may be so bold as to say, I have rarely dreamt of little else but that breathless moment. _

I blushed, having been thinking of that very moment beneath the alcove.

I read further, reading what he'd written. He wrote of his original homeland, the former country of Landis, now a part of Archadia. It grieved him, to think he might very well be fighting against men he'd known as boys. He wrote of his family, his mother and brother. How he'd left his country in effort to find a definite cure for his mother's illness and when he'd returned, she and his sibling had left the country, no one able to tell him where. Deeply saddened, he'd traveled to Dalmasca and finally stopped in Rabanastre, having worked as a sell-sword for the caravans traveling across the deserts. He spoke of meeting Vossler and despite the other's nobility, striking up a good friendship, Basch actually teaching the other soldier some new and different fighting techniques. He wrote that he owed much to Captain Azelas, for without his recommendation, Basch would have never been able to join Dalmasca's legions.

_I cannot say exactly why I feel moved to tell you this, my lady, save for the times are dark here and I fear I might never again get the chance. I hope you consider my words worthy and give me small comfort in your reading of them, for such would honor me deeply. During these long years away from the light and purity of Rabanastre, I have seen much of war and death; I fear it hardens my soul more with every passing sunset. But I fear these eyes will become harder still, for dark days lurk in the future. I pray, lady, you never have to experience such a time. I would give my life to spare you such a trial._

_I would also have you know that your esteemed gift still rests around my neck; it brings me comfort when despair threatens overmuch. All I need do is simply touch it to bring a measure of peace to my troubled mind, soothed by your beautiful presence. It shall never be discarded; I vow to wear it always._

My hands were trembling and I felt tears sparkling on my lashes. I imagined him sitting in a deserted cold council chamber, pen in hand and paper before him, golden head bent as he wrote, then pausing to carefully brush fingers against the silver chain at his throat. The image made my breath catch and the letter fluttered to the bed as I felt faint. I realized in that exact moment that I loved this man. Why I didn't know, but in a moment of forlornness in a world of dark despair, he had laid his soul bare to _me_ and I had been entranced from the first word. How could I _not_ love this tender noble heart? Biting my lips to quell their trembling, I picked up the papers and read the rest.

_I hope a measure of stability will arrive in Nabradia soon, for I long to return to Rabanastre, not only to dwell in the goodness and light in the golden city, but that I might once more look upon your face and be worthy of your smile. Know that you are ever in my prayers, Alandra Ellevassa Del'Kerr, and I always hold your memory close to my heart._

_Your servant always,_

_Sir Basch fon Rosenburg_

* * *

Basch's letter began the first of our monthly correspondence. More than eager to return his letter, the very next day I remained cooped up in my chambers, carefully penning my response draft.

_Dear Captain,_ I began. With a dreamy smile, I realized I rather liked that phrase.

_I am happier than I can say to have received your letter. I truly was not expecting such a wonderful correspondence. Let me begin by putting to rest your worries; I am not, nor have I ever been, offended by your actions. In truth, I consider you a gentleman of the highest regard, one a youth such as myself would be both proud and humbled to call friend. _

I wrote on, saying how touched I was to have garnered his time and deeply moved to be so privileged as to know of his past. I quickly shred the concerns about his nobility, of lack thereof by courtly standards, saying I would far rather have him at my side than many of the noble born knights in Dalmasca's legions. I thought long and hard about what to reply in regards to his wearing my gift, finally settling on penning how glad I was he still carried it and I hoped it continued to brighten his dark thoughts and bring a measure of relative peace whenever such was needed.

After adding the proper courtesies, I carefully signed my name, folded and sealed the letter, but not before gently pressing my lips to the parchment, just to the right of my signature. How I wished I could carry the gesture across the miles, but perhaps I would one day have the chance.

The many months passed, slowly for me. Basch continued to write to me, giving me news of the warfront and again expressing his yearning to return to Rabanastre, but explaining that his oath of loyalty held him tighter than any chain ever could. From his words, I began to gain a deep understanding of the man and was further drawn to him because of it. In return, I wrote of the happenings of the city, trying to keep my replies light and pure, to give him a small comfort of home in the bleakness of Nabradia's growing darkness.

The second month of the fifth year, I did not receive a letter. I was devastated. Fearing the worst, I began to haunt the court, desperate for any information concerning Nabradia. I knew that if Sir Rosenburg had fallen, word would have reached Rabanastre in a matter of hours, but no such report had been affirmed. In his last letter, Basch had hinted that the Arcadians were testing the borders a bit harder and more frequently than before, but he felt confident that the defenses would push them back and remain intact.

My mother and father began to fuss; I was by now twenty-two and still an unmarried woman. Still, I spurned all their cajoling and finally demands to take a suitor; the one I loved was still far from my reach and possibly gone forever. I could not tell my parents of my "secret", the letters that were carefully hidden in the bottom of my bureau, some speckled with dark red liquid I knew was not ink. I knew they would not object, but I did not feel the need to proclaim that I was desperately awaiting the captain's return. It just was not needful for anyone else to know.

Then came the day. I was sitting at my window, staring out over the windblown desert when I heard the horns. The clarion call of the trumpets, signaling the return of the victorious. Near to shrieking in excitement, I fairly flew down the corridor and burst through the balcony doors overlooking the streets of Rabanastre. Sure enough, majestically soaring towards the palace courtyard were the white and golden Dalmascan airships, gleaming in the high afternoon sun.

Naturally, _everyone_ thronged towards the courtyard, eager to meet and greet the returning heroes. The ships settled lightly to the cobbled stones and their engines drifted to a low whine as cheers rang from the assembled Rabanastrans. King Raminas and the little Princess Ashe, by now twelve years old, appeared on the steps, the king smiling to see his warriors' return. The ships' ramps lowered and the cheers were tumultuous as the soldiers marched forth, the day turning into a celebration on the spot.

In my haste to reach the courtyard, I was buffeted by the crowd, all thronging forward and backward. But the endless sea of beings engulfed me and I failed to see the final soldiers leave the airships. King Raminas called forth the commanders and made a stirring speech, honoring their bravery and courage, but I heard naught of it. I desperately sought an unruly golden mane atop black steel but saw my captain not. The king called for a celebratory feast and everyone cheered as he and the legion's leaders made their way into the palace, for debriefing, doubtless. I fought against the mob and finally made my way back into the palace amid bustling servitors and courtiers.

Standing in a gilded corridor, I fought against the tears that threatened. Basch fon Rosenburg had not been atop that dais. I bit my lips to quell their trembling and finally fled to the gardens, running to a secluded spot and collapsing in a forlorn heap, mourning the fallen captain. Angry at myself for not vehemently declaring my love for him in our letters, I fought the urge to scream and rail, settling for biting harshly at my lip and shaking my head, pulling the pins from my hair. And now, I feared I had forever lost the chance.

So lost in my sorrow was I that I didn't hear the approaching footsteps. Had I my wits about me, I might have heard the ring of steel but I was simply uncaring. The clanking stopped and I gasped as two hard hands suddenly grasped my arms and hauled me up from my fetal curl.

Before I registered what was happening, I was enveloped in a strong embrace, long arms clasped about me and a familiar rough baritone murmuring raggedly at my temple, "Shh, Alandra. There's no need to weep. I'm here…I'm here…"

The much missed voice finally clicked in my whirling mind and I jerked back, staring up at the man who had been in my dreams for more than five years. "Basch…" I whispered, almost unable to believe he was finally _here_, holding me. But he was real and the tears finally coursed anew, this time from the weight that had been lifted from my heart.

"_Basch_!" I cried, desperately throwing my arms around him and clinging. His embrace was no less desperate, I felt the steel of his bracers might crush my ribs, but I could not care.

We held each other for a long moment; I just savored the _realness_ of him in my arms. The man I'd loved through his letters and before was finally _home_ and pray Gods he'd remain. When I finally regained breath enough, I managed to gasp, "But…you weren't with the King…?"

He smiled just a fraction, gently returning my head to his shoulder and resting his lips against my temple. "I spoke with the king aboard the ship and gave my report. I saw little need for recognition before the city. That is better left to those more deserving."

I pulled away and looked up at him. "_You_ are Dalmasca's hero, Basch. Surely you must know that."

Basch shrugged and stroked my hair. "Perhaps. I ask for no notoriety, however. My service is based on honor, and loyalty. I need little else."

As I gazed up at him, I saw the marks war had left on this strong noble man. His countenance, while always firm, was now stern and unbending, the lines of his face a bit more etched, a bit deeper. The steel-blue eyes were darker, haunted mirrors with the deaths of comrades, the hopelessness of war and destruction; my heart ached to fathom what he had seen in the trenches of the north.

But then those war-darkened eyes smiled, mimicking his slanted lips and he said, "Truly, I can now be blessed, to be here with you. As I have dreamed all these years."

I wanted to reply, to return such a heartfelt statement, but my words were silence by the sweet touch of his lips, pressed so very gently against mine.

We were married the following week.

_To be continued..._


End file.
